


Wake up

by Zoya113



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: F/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 10:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20890733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya113/pseuds/Zoya113
Summary: Emma always has nightmares about the Hive





	Wake up

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt day 5 was smn about guns but I’m piss terrified of guns so I swapped it for an alternate prompt for ‘wake up’ 
> 
> ((Prompt list was made by la-vie-en-whump on tumblr btw I believe !!))

“Paul? Paul! Oh my god! It’s really you!” Emma’s heart starts to fly. He’s really alive. “You made it! We made it!” She clasps her hands to her mouth in disbelief.

She’s standing in that hospital room she’s been standing in every night after she shuts her eyes, and Paul’s come back again like he always does and her head she believes it’ll be better this time.  
Part of her brain tries to wake her from the dream, but the other is working tenfold to delve her deeper into the nightmare. 

She could smell the anaesthetic and feel a dull throb in her leg. It was all far too real.

Paul wraps his arms around her in a hug, one arm across the small of her back and the other guiding her head to her chest. 

She has to run. She’s seen this play out every night in her sleep, but he’s just so warm. She sinks into him like honey, and she just lets herself believe it’s all fine for a moment longer. 

“Emma, I’m sorry,” his voice is melodic and Emma only wants to believe it’s a lullaby but she knows better. 

Her dream can’t focus, it jumps ahead, Hidgens has his hands on her shoulders to keep her from running. There’s blue blood staining his turtleneck and he’s singing right into her ear. She can’t see it but she knows his entrails are hanging out from his sweater. There’s blood dripping down his hands onto her shoulders.

She’s dumping her backpack on the ground but it’s so heavy and she can’t get it off. She runs out into the hallway but she blinks and suddenly she never left. Her thigh erupts in burning pain as a punishment for even attempting it.

Ted and Bill have her around the arms, dragging her back to Paul and he won’t let her go. He’s looking into her eyes with a neon, toothed smile as slime is oozing from his mouth as he leans in with his hands tight around her neck and-

“Wake up!”

Her eyes flew open but she couldn’t see a thing in the darkness.

His hands were tight around her shoulders, sitting her up in the bed and just like that she was plunged back into that nightmare. “Get off me! You’re not Paul, you’re one of them!” She lashed out a hand to push him off her. 

Paul released her quickly and she backed up, falling off the bed onto the floor. 

The blankets were tangled around her legs, and because they were still wrapped around Paul they turned her upside down as she fell. She hit the floor with her shoulders first before the blanket released her. “Ah fuck,” she stated up at the dark ceiling, her head spinning but reality slowly coming back to her.

“Em? Are you okay babe?” Paul shifted from his side of the bed to hers, looking down at her. 

“Yep,” She muttered breathlessly. 

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah,” she rubbed her forehead with a groan. “Wow! That gets me every fucking time!” 

Paul frowned, “same nightmare?”

She nodded guiltily. “Sorry.”

Paul reached out his hand to help her back up onto the bed, lifting up the blanket for her to crawl back underneath.  
He left her some space in case she still needed it. 

“Don’t apologise,” he lay on his side to look at her. “They just don’t stop, huh? And I guess I’m not doing you as much of a favour as I thought waking you up,” he chuckled sheepishly and quietly. “What was it like?”

“Well it’s always just a little different. I thought if maybe...” she fiddled with her fingers, rolling her head into her pillow with a sigh. “When I forgot the song I wouldn’t have nightmares anymore, and now I barely remember any of those dumb lyrics and the dreams still there.“ 

Paul opened his throat as if maybe he wanted to comment on the lyrics but kept his mouth shut. “Sounds bad.” 

“It isn’t like what really happened. Sometimes it’s like a frame for frame replay, but sometimes it’s a bit different. I remember, ugh, there’s blood and guts and just all this gross shit all over the place.”

“Well if I remember clearly it was pretty sterile and clean, right?” 

“Oh yeah. Absolutely. That place reeked of bleach.” Her nose wrinkled at the memory. “Sometimes it feels like there’s rocks in my backpack and I can’t run even when I know what’s coming.” She gave a defeated shrug. “My dream self is a fucking moron, right?” 

“Aw. Don’t say that. You’re pretty justified in being scared hun.”

“I suppose. Sorry for hitting you,” she apologised, taking his hand in hers. “I freaked out.” 

“I’m sorry you went through that, babe.” 

She listened to his voice in the darkness. He absolutely wasn’t singing. His voice was even a bit nasally and dry from just waking up. She giggled because she could picture the image - he was probably struggling to keep his eyes open, and his bed hair had to be awful.  
“Well it wasn’t you, Paul. It was the infection,” she mellowed out again, rolling about to try and find a comfortable position. “Infected Paul was like, unbelievably perfect. He could sing and dance and he smiled no matter what and that was just weird. I like normal Paul better.” She moved in ever so slightly to tuck her head up against his chest. 

“So let me get this straight. You’re saying I’m not perfect?” He was teasing her, but was too tired to insinuate it with his tone. 

“Hah! Aw hun, no I don’t mean that. Infected Paul was like a god damn robot. He was a zombie alien. I like you, human Paul better, you know?” 

“Yeah, I know. I’m just playing with you babe.” One hand stretched out its fingers to play with Emma’s hair. 

“I like it when you snore in your sleep and you hog the blankets and you have stupid bed hair. Nothin’ scary ‘bout that,” she cooed, not quite awake enough to give him a hug so resorting to pressing her forehead against his chest with a little more force. “I love your stupid face,” she grinned.

“Well I’m gonna do my best to take that as a compliment.” She could feel his laugh rumble inside his chest like a purr. “I love your stupid face too, babe.”

**Author's Note:**

> Smn a little bit dumb that I don’t really like but I got myself into this prompttober thing and now I have to live w it


End file.
